


Long in The Tooth, Short in The Hair

by M4M4



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Chronological Age Difference, Disgusting Descriptions, Drunk Sex, Isolation, Medical Experimentation, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Needles, Other, POV Second Person, Panic Attacks, Reader uses memes to cope, Reader-Insert, Semi-Public Sex, Sensory Overload, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Torture by Exercise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-09-02 10:09:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20274214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M4M4/pseuds/M4M4
Summary: Will tag as I go.It's gonna get darker from here, fellas.





	1. Slimy Lungs

**Author's Note:**

> Will tag as I go.  
It's gonna get darker from here, fellas.

“Is your body functioning as properly as it should? I know biologically you’re an adult, but you’re chronologically geriatric at this point,” Moira commented, performing a few taps on each of your knees with a reflex hammer.

“Just fine here, ma’am,” you sigh, slumping slightly. Furrowing her thin brows, Moira places a slender hand on your lower back, reminding you to keep your spine straight, “lest you develop a musculoskeletal disorder due to your unbecoming habits”.

“You’re keeping up with the stretches and breathing exercises?”

“Yes,” you respond, rolling your eyes. You knew she didn’t actually care about you. Well, technically, she did. She just cared about how her little pet project was doing.

You seemed far older, far frailer just a few days back. Near the end of your life, you wanted to donate yourself to science to assist with what cures they could make for various diseases. Luckily for you, you just so happened to be in the perfect age group for applicants they were looking for to throw into cryostasis to use at a later date.

Being the guinea pig for a scientist— no, a _geneticist_ wasn’t what you signed up for. You wanted to die with dignity, dammit! You wanted to contribute to science, to save other people, not be prodded and poked at by some woman with freakishly long nails!

”It’s a marvel how you have had no age-related diseases, nor have you experienced any joint pains, ” Moira notes, assessing the percussion of your chest now, loosening up all the mucus that formed in your lungs in the days you were ”reborn”.

”Well, I do have this pain in my neck, and my back, and my pu--”

”_Please_, stop while you’re ahead, ” she cuts you off with a sharp blow to your back, causing you to wheeze and spit out a ball of phlegm. Grimacing at this, Moira offers you a tissue, to which you accept. ”You know, I’m disappointed this process hasn’t erased your memory. You’ve been spitting out both sputum and outdated internet phenomena for the past week now.”

”Yeah, me too. Wish you’d zap my brain or something, or implant some memories. Maybe program something more exciting rather than having to use a bedpan in the last few moments of my old life, ” you reply, your lungs rattled with each breath. ”How long until my pipes are clear, doc?” Turning toward her, you give a hopeful grin, to which she doesn’t return.

”Give it another week. Your body is still in a state of ’defrosting’. In other words, you’re healthy, but don’t do any vigorous activity for the next few days,” she presses a stethoscope to your chest, listening to your breaths for a moment before draping it around her neck. ”Your check-up is finished. Follow my instructions and you should be in perfect condition in a few weeks.”

Sliding your hospital gown and housecoat back on, you give a short nod. ”Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, doc.”

Pursing her lips, she breathed a sigh through her nose as she pulled up a holoscreen and began typing notes onto it.

* * *

After your little phase of constant coughing and hocking loogies everywhere, that’s where the testing began to get a little more rigorous.

Well, not exactly rigorous, but definitely more stressful.

Moira constantly had you hooked up to various machines you didn't know the purpose for, despite asking several hundred questions about them. She injected you with mysterious things, showered you in what seemed like piss, but was actually "biotic fluid", according to her.

A few weeks of her tests and you were at your wit's end.

Looking down at your somewhat scarred, bruised arm, you narrow your eyes at the sight where she has an IV attached to you.

”So, what’s this for, again?” You ask with an edge of uncertainty, looking up at her as she’s typing away at a holographic screen.

”I’m allowing your body to get used to the SEP chemicals before we begin injecting higher doses into you. Nanobots will enter your bloodstream and strengthen your immune system, your strength, bone growth, and healing factor, ” she explains, but it’s practically Greek on your ears.

”In English, please.”

”I’m modifying both your genetics and anatomy to become a stronger, more capable agent that Talon needs,” she says, firmer this time.

“So it’s like eugenics?”

Moira actually looks offended by this. She turns to give you a sharp glare before turning to her screen once more. “It’s epigenetics. I’m adding onto your genetic code without altering it. Think of it as improving what you already have, not necessarily through environmental means, but through slowly adding such chemicals to your body to help you adjust. Think of it as a very slow irrigation process.”

She pulls up another holopad, showing an X-ray of your entire body. Tapping on the screen, she looks up at you.

”Right now, the nanobots only make up point-one percent of your entire body. We aren’t necessarily working up to one-hundred, seeing as that could prove fatal to both you and everyone else around you. Even just ten percent could make you quite a formidable opponent in the battlefield. You could easily give Gabriel a run for his money, ” she smirks, then gazes over your chart once more.

”Right. Who is Gabriel?”

Rolling her eyes, she simply shows you a picture of a person in a mask. Somewhat gaudy, but still intimidating to look at.

”You will be introduced to the other Talon agents in due time. For now, we’ll have to keep you in isolation to train, test, and immunize you.”

”You’re treating me like some sort of lab rat.”

”I barely consider you an agent, let alone a _person_, at best.”

Her statement hadn’t fazed you in any way. Besides, you’ve heard worse from assholes on the street before you almost kicked the bucket. Smiling wryly, you nod, ”thanks, love ya too, doc.”

* * *

Truth be told, you had gone a tad stir crazy from being confined to a lab for what seemed like months now.

Though Moira wasn’t the only person you had interacted with, she was the only people that actually _talked_ to you, answer your questions, and reveal just a bit about herself to you.

Was it strange you were beginning to look forward to her testing?

Was it even more strange that you considered her to be a friend?

Perhaps she didn’t share the same sentiment, but you were beginning to grow desperate to see new faces. You seemed to just attach yourself to any person that showed you only a minor semblance of humanity in this sterile environment.

Maybe you were looking far into it. Then again, you were admittedly just a tad giddy when she asked what sort of archaic techniques you used to use when you became ill. Chicken noodle soup and a warm pair of socks wasn’t the answer she was hoping for, nor was it a very satisfactory one. You never realized how eager you were about sharing details of your past before the opportunities actually presented themselves.

When she came into your cell, she gave you a pile of folded clothes, a dossier, and a tag with your information stamped on it.

**"Tomorrow, you will officially be put on duty as a Talon operative."**


	2. Don't Worry, Bones Grow Back

The first week training was gruelling.

You came to learn that _Gabriel_, or Reaper as he preferred to be called was a complete and utter bastard. 

He subjected you to physical torture by callisthenics and the dreaded Combat Fitness Test. 

Moira thought you’d be ready to endure what he had in mind.

The keyword is _thought_, meaning the hag was done with you and wanted to pass you off to someone else so they could have a turn torturing you as well.

There was no respite in his presence, no calm golden light that you learned to love and accept. If you were lucky enough, there’d be black mist and a voice barking orders in your head. Though most days he found more satisfaction in getting your ribs well-acquainted with his steel-toe boots.

Today was no different. He had you doing ammo lifts.

Those were the worst, in your opinion.

The next day, you wouldn’t be able to do anything other than lay in your standard-issue cot and watch old videos on your holopad. 

As he growled out insults and belittling comments, you began to drown them out, deciding to focus more on trying not to drop the thirty-pound ammunition can on your skull.

You stared straight ahead, keeping your eyes trained on the cement wall in front of you.

You could feel the dark voids of his eyes trained on you, full of contempt as he crossed his arms.

”I can’t imagine why Moira would waste her skills and equipment on someone like you, ” he spat.

”You and me both, bud, ” you breathe out, grunting as you finished your ninety-seventh lift, almost crying out in relief when you heard the timer buzz.

”You barely qualify as an agent. You’d be better off cleaning the damn filth off my boots.”

Okay, that made you laugh. 

Probably one reason why you were face down on the floor doing the three-hundred fifty he forced you to do. Cleaning his shit-covered boots seemed like a more desirable option now that you thought about it. 

You had to give it to him, though. The man was a Talon agent through and through. He deserved that seat at the inner council’s table for being such a goddamned sadist.

By your three-hundredth pushup, he placed his heavy foot on your back, pressing it down onto your spine.

You felt your bones creak under its weight. Christ, where did he get off on doing this shit? Moira’s lab in Oasis seemed more and more welcoming by the second. 

By the time you were finished, you wished for a fast and painless death. 

”What are you doing lying down? Up, ” he snarls, grabbing you roughly by the arm, nearly slicing your t-shirt with those claws of his. 

Right, you still had an obstacle course to endure.


	3. Discussing Celluloids with your Favorite Living Weapon

Six weeks of torturous training and you were finished.

You had to admit, Moira really pulled the wool over your eyes when she said you were going to be a Talon operative.

Getting your ass handed to you by Reaper every day and standing outside of the council room with your thumb up your ass was beginning to take a toll on your psyche.

You were beginning to feel useless, like a cushion both there to take up room, and also beat half to death when one of the council members (mainly Reaper) was in a bad mood.

However, it was a big step from being a fancy cushion for everyone to sit on, to guarding a mentally unstable astrophysicist. Talon had more hope in you than you initially thought.

Then again, your feelings of hope were somewhat diminished when Reaper told you it was mostly so they could get rid of their weaker agents. But Moira informed otherwise, letting you know that due to your strange idiosyncrasies and modified body, you were more than capable of handling Dr. de Kuiper.

When you came face to face (actually, face to one-sided mirror) with him, he was at best, a little underwhelming.

You were supposed to observe Dr. de Kuiper, keep him in check and make sure he doesn’t stray too far from his marbles.

For a renowned astrophysicist, he sure was a strange conversationalist.

”Have you ever read Carl Sagan’s works?” He asks out of the blue while writing on a pane of glass.

You dimly remember watching his shows a few times, recorded on VHS to watch at a later date. You briefly consider telling him about it, but decide against it, knowing that Dr. de Kuiper would probably go off on a tangent about televisions and how leftover light from the big bang exists within it. God, have you really been spending that much time around him?

”Sort of. Poked my nose into a few of them. Couldn’t parse the science stuff, but his philosophies were cool.”

”They were, weren’t they? How he managed to balance both religion and science, being bold to discuss those matters as staunchly as he did. He was quite an insightful man, a brilliant one, in fact.”

You look at the tranq gun at your hip, pursing your lip at the mere sight of it. You weren’t fond of being the zookeeper for someone who was supposedly a world-famous scientist. So what if he had a few screws loose? That didn’t mean Talon had to keep him under surveillance and sated with that damn song always playing to him in his sleep. Crossing your arms, leaning against the wall, you lift your head towards him.

”You ever watch 2001: A Space Odyssey?”

He shakes his head, still scribbling away on the glass, moving onto the mirror to continue his formula.

”Star Wars?”

”I’ve never had the chance to consume such media. Too busy working, studying, ” he trails off, still writing numbers and words that made zero sense to you. They were beginning to obfuscate his face now, making it look as if half of his face was scribbled upon.

”Maybe you should sometime. I could slip you a holovid or two. You’d like ’em, ” you offer.

He actually pauses at this, his dry eraser marker hovering above the pane of glass by a few centimetres.

”You’d do that for me?” His brows furrow and he takes a step back.

”Sure. What’s the worse it could do? They used to think too much TV could rot your brain.”

”That’s because they used to have small amounts of radiation in them.”

”Sure, but I’m perfectly fine. Had a big CRT that I had my nose pressed up to as a kid, ” you offer with a shrug, knowing he couldn’t see you.

”Interesting.”

”Yeah, they used to think moths could fly in and make the whole thing explode.”

He smirks, ever so slightly. ”Really now?”

”What can I say? We were dummies back then. We used to believe you could keep a kitten small by shoving it in a glass bottle.”

He grimaces, then returns to writing once more.

You’re starting to like Dr. de Kuiper.

* * *

Snacks were strictly forbidden while on the job.

But you couldn’t help it.

After Dr. de Kuiper’s offhand mention of stroopwafels, you had grown curious.

Somehow, you managed to sneak a package through and were snacking on a few while you watched him, knowing full well of the security camera that kept a watchful eye on you in the observation room.

”You know, you’re quite a strange one, ” he begins, looking over a few diagrams and notes.

You take a moment to chew on the wafer, before countering, ”look who’s talking, Sig’.”

”You’re definitely not like any other Talon operative I’ve ever met before.”

”That’s because we haven’t formally met.”

Looking toward the one-way mirror, he lifts a brow.

”What is your name, if you don’t mind me asking?”

”I’m not sure if I’m authorized to tell you, ” you ball up the cellophane wrapping in your gloved fist and shove it in your pocket.

”That doesn’t seem fair, now does it?”

”Nope. But them’s the rules. Talon wants to burn bridges with everyone they meet, but God forbid their agents telling each other their names and dare I say, _fraternizing?_” You give a dramatic gasp, to which he chuckles warmly.

”So you know my name, but you cannot tell me yours. I’m somewhat wounded by this power imbalance.”

”You get used to it. Dr. O’Deorain wouldn’t tell me her name for the first few weeks I was here, but she told me the name of every chemical I was injected with, ” you can feel the thick needles poking into your veins, making them bulge as she injected you with what was essentially steroids as held smelling salts to your nose. She managed to leave you with two fucked-up arms that she barely tried to fix, showing you her mutilated hand and told you to consider it a medal for your contributions to science.

”And besides, you’re far more famous and important than me.” Taking a seat at the metal table situated in the darkroom, you prop your feet up.

”Am I now?” He tilts his head at this as if he can’t believe your humility. ”You appear to know so much about the past, I find it quite hard to believe that being _ahem_, a guard was your first choice for a job. You’d make an excellent historian, or perhaps a writer.”

”You flatter me, really, ” you chuckle, placing your helmet back on your head. ”But unfortunately, that knowledge comes from experience.”

Both of his brows shoot up now, and he comes closer to the mirror. Despite it being made from durable glass, you can’t help but feel just a tad vulnerable.

”If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?” he straightens his back, holding his hands behind himself.

”That’s a pretty bold question.”

”Apologies, you don’t have to answer, ” he clears his throat with a soft hum. ”But if you could sate my curiosity?”

After a moment of hesitance, you tell him your age, causing him to sputter in disbelief.

”But you sound so young, the vernacular you use is quite... Strange, ” he pauses, chuckling softly. ”If I didn't know any better, I’d think you were one of those ostentatious types.”

”What, like a hipster?” You snort, shaking your head as a giggle spilled from you. ”I don’t see a hipster partaking in a militia, but then again I suppose anything can happen nowadays.”

”That’s the beauty of life; you never know what’s going to happen next, what peculiarities humanity append.”


	4. Between the Ceiling and Floor

The first week of guard duty went surprisingly well, all things considered.

Though there were a few times where Dr. de Kuiper would grow panicked, causing everything in his vicinity to levitate with him for a brief moment, including you.

You were told it was a risk, but you didn’t expect to be lifted to the damn ceiling and dropped onto your back.

The other guards assigned to him were probably thinking the same thing.

Sigma was a force to be reckoned with.

* * *

”Did you know you can toss other people around with your little gravity powers there, Sig?”

He looks sheepish for a moment, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. ”Really? I... I apologize if that frightened you.”

”To be honest, being tossed into the air like a ball would scare anyone. Maybe when you’re out in the field you could use that to your advantage.”

Dr. de Kuiper smiles slightly at your suggestion and begins jotting it down in a worn notebook.

”Is there any way you can control it?”

”Somewhat, I’ve been given training while institutionalized, mostly to placate me. Really though, it was mostly filled with breathing exercises and... being...” he trails off, eyes widening as his breathing grew ragged. The floor shifted and vibrated beneath him as papers and desk clutter began to float upwards with him.

”_They imprisoned me, _” he murmurs, nails digging into his forearms, almost piercing his sleeves.

”Whoa, hey, hey!” You yelp as you begin to levitate with said items. ”It’s okay now, you’re not there anymore, you’re free, remember?” It was a blatant lie, but you were grasping at straws, trying to spout whatever nonsense to calm him down. You grab onto the table, which is thankfully screwed onto the concrete. Pulling yourself back onto the floor, you look over at Dr. de Kuiper, who seems to be doubled over on his lab table, shouting incoherently.

Suddenly, you’re thrown into the ceiling, then slammed back onto the floor.

”Is everything alright in there?” Comes a voice in your comms.

”Just peachy, ” you grunt, dragging yourself upright to sit down in the chair. ”Subject Sigma experienced a brief F41.0. All good now, ” sighing softly, you lean back, realizing he’s gone back into his quarters.

Removing your helmet, you set it down on the table and take a moment to process what just happened.

* * *

Today was the day.

After so long, you were finally cleared to go out onto the field!

Truth be told, though, you were scared shitless.

You’d never hear the end of it from Reaper. Moira would be on your ass as well.

What sort of punishments were there for making a mistake on a mission? A smack with a sandal? Bed without dinner? A torturous death?

Perhaps your nerves were getting the best of you. Then again, you did lose your lunch multiple times in the mere hours of your departure.

It’s an easy mission, simple! Just take out whoever stands in your way, try not to think about it too much. Just kidnapping a few councilmembers of an organization you don’t remember the name of, that’s all.

* * *

Armed with a Gauss rifle, and miniature electromagnetic catapult stuffed with a bomb that essentially tases people in a twenty-foot radius, you feel pretty vulnerable despite your assortment of weapons.

On the ride there, you’re sat between Reaper and another Talon soldier unfortunate enough to be stationed with him.

Across from you sits Moira, and what seems to be a wannabe cyberpunk chick, typing away at her little screen as Moira quietly reads from a book.

Turning to the fellow soldier, you let out a small laugh as you nudge their side.

”Could you imagine your first mission being this boring?”

They turn to you, tilting their head. ”Not boring, no. Though, I couldn’t possibly imagine it requiring this much waiting.”

You recognize that voice. Was that...?

”Doctor de Kuiper?”

”It’s Sigma.”

”Right, Sigma, ” you mutter, feeling a little weird for having to refer to him as his dumb codename.

”Ah, you were one of the agents observing me as I worked! A pleasure to finally see you, ” he holds out his hand for you to shake, which you do.

”You seem different with your armour on. All...” _big, tall_ is what you want to say. ”Intimidating!”

God, you can feel your face burn as you slump back into your seat, crossing your legs as you stare straight ahead.

”I have to admit, you certainly aren’t what I was expecting, ” he replies, and you turn to him expectantly. ”I would have preferred to, ah...” he trails off, turning away. Just as you’re about to question him, you hear Moira clearing her throat, giving you a sharp glare.

”Right, of course. Well, I look forward to seeing you more off duty, Doc– I mean Sigma, ” you nod, your hands firmly gripping your thighs.

God have mercy, are you starting to more than just like this man?


	5. Wherein You Realize You're Apart of an Extremist Organization

As soon as your dropship landed, the woman with the purple hair disappeared, almost as if she glitched out of existence. You blinked, not believing what you just saw.

Turning toward Moira, you pointed at the spot beside her. ”Did she-”

”Sombra has stealth capabilities able to render herself completely invisible, ” she explains, crossing her legs as she sat back. ”Give her a view minutes and she’ll take care of the security systems.”

”More like a few seconds, ” she chimes in, voice far too close for your liking.

With that, the four of you sat in silence, save for the anxious tapping of your foot.

”Sigma and Reaper take the brunt. My experiment and I will fall in behind you two.”

Nodding, Reaper stands from his spot and proceeds to exit the ship with Sigma following closely behind.

”You know, I found myself quite intrigued about the relationship you share with Doctor de Kuiper, ” Moira starts, absentmindedly examining her two biotic orbs.

”What?”

”The two of you have a connection, ” she replies. ”He normally doesn’t speak to any of the guards stationed to him, and yet he regularly speaks to you.”

”That’s because I treat him like a person, not an animal.”

”You do realize he’s more dangerous than he looks, correct?”

You remember when he threw you to the ground. Fractured a few ribs and you almost broke your wrist. ”Of course, doesn’t mean he’s not worthy of respect.”

”He very well could have killed you and another guard that day. His mind is fractured, unable to heal because of what he witnessed.”

”Well, what did he see?”

”He created a temporary black hole and was thrown back and forth into it. Sigma has seen everything that has happened and will happen countless times. The trauma he endured has damaged his mind irreparably. With his harness on gravity, there’s no telling what he’ll do if he loses control. Whether he’ll level entire cities, or create another black hole and effectively end the world, he’s practically a human weapon. ”

You aren’t sure how to feel about that news. Was he really capable of doing all of that? He seemed friendly enough. A little awkward at times, perhaps a bit paranoid, but definitely not someone who you see as ending the world.

Just as you’re about to speak, Sombra comes onto your comms.

”Might want to get yourselves in here. The boys are trying to hold the guards off until I can get into this _pinche_ system.” Gunfire and shouting could be heard in the background, along with the occasional metallic screech.

Moira turns to you and raises a brow, then stands, gesturing towards the door with a smirk.

”After you, _coinín_.”

You stand as well, sprinting towards the door and out of the ship.

As you sprint towards one of the fire exits in the building, Sombra gives you the go-ahead to enter inside, but not before two guards block your way. Lifting your Gauss rifle towards them, you charge a shot and fire right between the two, the burst of light separating them. The knockback on this thing is killer, but you’re impressed by the punch it packs.

”You’re a natural at this, I’m impressed, ” Moira hums, looking between the two fallen guards then motions for you to continue. ”They can’t wait forever, you know.”

Your mind is racing with a million thoughts at once. You just killed not one, but two people. Suddenly, your stomach drops, and it feels as though you’re about to vomit.

Moira urges you forth. ”Don’t think, just run, ” she reminds you.

”Right, sorry.” Swallowing your breakfast down, you charge through the door and proceed to go forth through the second set of doors.

Suddenly, you’re face to face with Reaper holding an entire assembly of people hostage while Sigma is busy keeping the guards at bay.

You’re not with a roving band of evangelicals. You’re officially a terrorist, great. Perfect. You went from being an anomaly that was supposed to die ten years ago from old age to someone taking apart of an attack against innocent people.

Now you really wished Moira erased your memory.

Shakily, you step up onto the stage with Reaper, looking to him for further instruction.

”Take them back to the ship, ” he growls.

Aiming your rifle at the frightened council members, you motion for them to stand, barking out orders for them to get outside.

By the time you’re all outside, you’ve shut down. Both emotionally and mentally.

You don’t remember much of what happened afterwards, other than handing them over to other Talon soldiers to lock up.

By the time you come to, you’ve already landed in Rialto, with forces surrounding the ship, taking the hostages out and questioning both Moira and Reaper about the mission.

Taking off your helmet, you hold it by your side as you stumble off the platform, not bothering to listen or talk to anyone.

* * *

You start breaking down as soon as you’re inside your quarters.

How could you do such a thing?

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Shedding off your armour and clothes, you crawl into bed and clutch at the sheets as you scream into your pillow, long and broken, fracturing off into heaving sobs as you shiver and shake.

After a moment of taking steadying breaths, you finally feel calm enough to sleep it off.

A few hours later, you hear someone knocking at your door.

Throwing on your standard-issue shirt and pants, you slide it open before nearly  
blanching at the sight.

“Dr. de Kuiper?”


	6. Inebriation and Inertia

He takes note of your dishevelled appearance, more notably the fact that you’ve chosen to wear a compression shirt rather than a regular one. ”I apologize if I’m interrupting anything.”

”Not at all, ” you shake your head, leaning against the doorframe with an easy smile.

”Oh, good! I have a question to ask you.”

”Shoot.”

Swallowing thickly, he wrings his hands together, his face turning a light shade of pink. ”I was just— er, wondering! wondering if you’d like to come have a drink or two with me. We could go to one of the various pubs here, unwind a bit after that mission.”

Did...

Did Dr. de Kuiper just as you out on a date?

Your stomach drops, and he can see it in your expression. Just as he’s about to backpedal, you quickly nod.

”Sure! Just ah, give me time to get ready. Meet me out front in an hour?”

”Of course, ” he nods down at you, and suddenly you feel all the blood rush to your head.

”Great, I’ll ah, get ready, Doctor-”

”Siebren, ” he says with a nod. ”Please, call me Siebren.” With that, he turns to walk away, but not before waving and murmuring _’ciao’_.

Sliding your door shut, you feel as though you might pass out, or scream. Or both.

* * *

After a cold shower and some deliberation on what to wear on your technical _date_ with Dr. de Kuiper, you check out of the building and walk outside to see him standing there, waiting.

”Sorry I took so long, ” you apologize, adjusting the ’vintage’ sweater you threw on.

”Oh, don’t worry. You’re quite early, in fact, ” tugging back the sleeve to his blazer, he narrows his eyes down at the watch adorning his wrist. ”Fifteen minutes and forty-two seconds, to be exact.”

You can’t help but wonder if he’s stayed outside here for the past forty-five minutes. The thought both flatters and unsettles you.

As you stroll down the cobblestone sidewalk, you begin to truly appreciate the surroundings. You never would have thought you’d get to travel around the world like this, granted the only reason why was because of the damn caravan of terrorists that strung you along. Rialto was a nice area in Venice, you can see why the government had spent so much trying to persevere the historical buildings and landmarks.

”Doesn’t Rialto look lovely at this time of year?” he turns to you, smiling warmly as he admired you staring at the surroundings. With the autumn leaves blending in nicely with the buildings, it really did make for a picturesque view.

”Yeah, it’s almost like being back then, ” you pause as an Omnic and man walk past, holding hands with one another. ”Almost.”

”Tell me, what was it like? Was the technology really as archaic as they made it out to be?” Siebren asks, tilting his head.

”Weren’t you there?” you counter, smiling smugly.

He scoffs, shaking his head. ”Hardly. My childhood memories are long forgotten.”

”You weren’t missing much, then. Cars still had wheels and most of the world was still ran by dictators. It was as archaic as you can get in the 21st century.”

”It’s a marvel how you’ve come to accept change and embrace society. Truly remarkable how you’ve been able to acclimate as quickly as you’ve done.”

”The world isn’t the same as how I’ve left it, that’s for sure, ” you sigh, feeling a little homesick despite having no real ’home’.

”But change is good, yes?”

”For the most part, I suppose. Back then, we didn’t have robots with intricate AI or liquid that essentially regenerates our cellular structure. Space travel was in it’s very few baby steps, and we managed to send a few people to Mars, barely touching the moon a few times a year, ” shaking your head, you chuckle. ”Ah, you don’t want to hear an old coot like me whine about the ’good old days’.”

”But what if I do?”

”Then I’d say you really need to get better friends.”

You both laugh for a moment, and it feels natural like you’ve known him for years. Even though this is your first ”proper” meeting together, rather than being separated into two rooms with one watching the other. He’s certainly taller than expected, and it looks as though he beefed up quite a bit. You’re not sure if Moira or Reaper is to blame for it, but you’re certainly not complaining. He looks better, healthier when he’s free from the lab’s confines.

The two of you are quiet for a bit as he guides you down an alleyway. The sudden change in scenery makes you a little nervous, but when he stops in front of a door covered in a pattern of music notes and eyes.

After giving a few rhythmic knocks, it slides open and you both enter.

”Wow, doc, ” you whistle as you suddenly find yourself inside of a rather ritzy looking speakeasy. ”Never took you for the kind that likes to let loose in this way.”

“You thought I was some sort of prig?”

”Kind of, yeah, ” you fiddle with the hem of your sweater, giving a soft laugh.

Making your way to the bar, you’re immediately taken aback by the sea of patrons in their bespoke attire and starched collars. Suddenly, you feel very overwhelmingly underdressed. Maybe you should have worn slacks, perhaps a button-up rather than the old sweater you put in your personal effects bin.

You turn to Siebren and take in his outfit as well. It reminds you of a certain picture of Tom Jones. It suits him well for the most part. The turtleneck really brings it together. Briefly, you wonder if he’d laugh if you show him “The Salt and Pepper Diner” routine.

* * *

When your drinks are ordered, the two of you sit in a booth situated in the corner of the room, laughing, telling each other stories as you both grow buzzed with each glass you manage to throw back.

His pours himself his third glass of wine with a shaky hand before taking a deep, inelegant swig from it.

You snort. ”You spilled wine on your shirt.”

”It’s black. No one will see it.”

”Such a stickler for formality.”

Siebren looks down at you, setting his glass down. The red liquid sloshes around for a moment, threatening to spill onto the table and yourself.

”I believe we’re far past formalities, don’t you think?” His lips curl into a smirk, and you can see the slight reddening of his lips and cheeks due to the wine.

”After tossing me around like a sack of flour, I’d say so, ” you mumble, looking down at the ice in your beverage beginning to melt and dilute your mixture.

He gives you a look of faux-shock, his brilliant eyes widening slightly as he placed a hand on his chest. ”After the countless apologies and write-ups, you still haven't forgiven me?”

”There’s a chance you could win my favour back, ” you lean close.

”Hmm?” He moves closer as well, and you can feel his shoe inadvertently tap the side of your ankle.

Without missing a beat, you slide your hand to the nape of his neck and bring him in further, capturing his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sike, babie  
it’s sigma/reader >:)))))  
ngl i love that guy. hes lovely


	7. Just Short of a Coronary

Two bottles of wine and a small glass of absinthe later, the two of you stumble out, half-holding each other as he laughs heartily. 

”To think we’ve been kicked out!” Siebren throws his head back and lets out a howl of laughter, shaking you along with him. He smells of Prosecco and cologne, a scent that oddly excites you. You lean closer under the pretense of stabilizing yourself.

He’s warm and practically vibrating under your touch, you easily slip your arm beneath his blazer and around his waist, causing him to pause for a moment, looking down at you with confused, puppy-like eyes.

”Cold?” He asks, then tugs you closer. You can feel the lean muscle beneath his shirt, his abdomen softened by age. You’re overwhelmed, but he doesn’t seem to notice and keeps walking down the alleyway.

The two of you take longer to get back to base, dipping into alleyways and stopping for a few minutes to get your bearings. As you two walk down a particularly quiet alley, he slows for a moment.

”You’re quite attractive, you know, ” he suddenly says.

You feel the heat rush to your face and you nervously laugh. ”Yeah?” You tilt your head upwards to him, smiling slightly.

”I’ve always wondered what you looked like ever since I heard your voice. Of course, I was perfectly content with simply listening to you speak.” 

Despite being completely plastered, he’s still oddly eloquent in his current state. 

”I don't mind listening to you either, ” you reply, skirting your fingers up to the bottom of his ribs.

”Oh?” He hums and turns to face you now, his lanky arms still draped around you.

”Hey, I enjoy listening to you speak as you do with me, ” you tease, and slowly began advancing towards him. Poor Siebren couldn’t help but back up until he realized he backed himself up against a wall. 

Despite the obvious height difference between you two, you seem to have the upper hand as you take a moment to press a kiss to his jaw, standing on the tips of your toes just to reach him. 

Siebren gasps, sucking in gulps of air as if he had forgotten to breathe, and for a moment you think you went too far. Instead, he sets his hands on your waist, his fingers sliding beneath your shirt and sweater to rest his palms on your skin.

Trailing your lips from his jaw, taking a moment to nip at the sensitive flesh of his throat, he spurs you on with the sudden hike of his heartbeat beneath your tongue.

Of course, your hands are not idle, choosing to busy themselves with the untucking of that terribly warm turtleneck. 

Fingers slide over the light fuzz that covers his stomach, lifting his shirt in the process. Looking up, you raise a brow.

”This okay?”

He gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing awkwardly as he tried to formulate words in his suddenly dry mouth. After a second or two of making guttural sounds at the back of his throat, Siebren quickly nods.

”Use your words, hon’.”

You slip your hands from beneath his shirt, and he grunts in response. 

”_Please_, ” he chokes out, clutching at one of your wrists. ”_Touch me._”

Suddenly, he places your hand over the front of his slacks, directly over his clothed erection. 

You try not to laugh at the bold move, thinking it might give him the wrong idea. Looking up at him, you smirk and grip him firmly.

”How bold of you, Doctor de Kuiper, ” you exhale, and he screws his eyes shut, trying to keep himself from rutting into your hand.

”I’ve barely touched you and you’re already so eager, ” you purr, to which Siebren quietly whimpers. ”Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. After all, you deserve it.”

After loosening his belt along with a few teasing quips, you unbutton and unzip his trousers, tugging them down just enough to get a good look at his lean thighs, covered in a fine layer of hair. You take a moment to admire him, how his pale thighs twitched and flexed under your gentle touch, the way he desperately tried to staunch the sounds that threatened to spill from his pursed lips...

Leaning in, you press your lips to the area just below his navel. Siebren sucks in a gasp as his hand slips to the back of your scalp, lightly digging his fingers into the skin there.

You crush a trill of laughter that threatens to spill from your throat as you slip your hands beneath the waistband of his underwear. As they lower, you get a good look at the small thatch of hair at the base of his cock. Looking up at him, you make a point to press a light kiss to his shaft, giving it a teasing lick for good measure. The gesture is enough to make his hips jolt forward, causing his cock to swing out of his briefs, skidding across your cheek with one fell swoop.

Stifling a snort of laughter, you wrap your hand around his shaft, pumping him a few times before trailing your fingers to the reddened tip, where a touch of precum was already sliding down. 

After giving him a few languid strokes, you slowly lean forward, pressing your lips to the tip of him before taking him into your mouth, fully enveloping his rigid length. 

Siebren forced his eyes open, his pupils dilating at the sight of you before him. Bringing his hands to your scalp, he gently guided you along his cock, stroking your cheek as he murmured praise to you.

”_So good... _” he whispered, his voice slightly strained with lust as he shuddered out a soft grunt. 

As his movements began to increase in speed and depth, saliva began to ooze from the corner of your mouth and run down your chin. Growing desperate, you began to lean forward, pressing your palms to his thighs as you gagged, whimpering and moaning softly. You looked up at him with glassy eyes, brimming with tears as you struggled not to choke on him, despite his thrusts growing more and more sloppy and erratic by the second.

”I’m gh-” Siebren choked out, ”I’m going to–”

Without warning, you pulled back with a lewd _pop_, then began stroking him with quick, even strokes. 

You felt the hairs on the back of your neck start to stand up at you looked up at him, his eyes were dilated, swallowing his lilac irises in a sea of black as he clenched his jaw, his entire focus trained on you.

He whines and whimpers as he shoves his hips forward into your hand. Just as you’re about to admonish him for his blatant desperation, he bites his lip as he comes onto your face with a choked gasp. 

Your eyes widen, and his do too as he panics for a split second before almost crumpling when you make a point to swipe a bit of it from your chin and lick it off. 

After cleaning yourself off, you drag him back to the base. You certainly aren’t going to let him have all the fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm disgusting lmao  
also sigma is terrible at keeping his mouth shut during sex  
will 100% sputter and choke and prob moan as he nuts  
(btw i’m thinkin of opening up commissions/requests lmk if yall are interested)


End file.
